Sherry glanced to him with surprise and shrugged. “He was . . .”
“What color was his hair?” Drina asked when Sherry fell silent, a frown claiming her face.
“It was . . .” She frowned and then shook her head. “I don’t . . .”
“How tall was he?”
“Was he fat or thin?”
“How did he dress?”
Sherry stared at them all blankly. The answers to their questions simply weren’t coming. She couldn’t remember. She couldn’t visualize the man at all. She kept trying to draw up moments in her life when she knew for certain that he had been there; her brother’s funeral, her birthdays, her graduation . . . But all she saw was a fuzzy outline of a man, as if someone had erased the image.
“It’s all right,” Basil said quietly, taking her hand gently in his. “Breathe.”
Sherry concentrated on her breathing for a minute, but her head was spinning. Good old Uncle Al.
“This is awful,” she breathed with horror.
“No. This is good,” Basil assured her. “We are a step closer. Uncle Al was the immortal.”
“But he hasn’t been in my life for—”
“He very well may have been, Sherry,” Basil said quietly, and then pointed out, “Why else would he erase your memories of what he looked like?”
“Are you suggesting he erased my memory of what he looked like as Uncle Al so that he could be in my life as someone else?” she asked with a frown. “Is that even possible?”
For a moment no one spoke, but Sherry couldn’t help noticing that several glances were exchanged, and then Drina sighed and said, “He would have had to work it carefully. Withdraw from your life for a couple of months to allow the memory to fade a bit naturally, and then simply add to it with some mind control when he reappeared.”
“And he probably would have changed his look when he did come back into your life,” Basil added quietly. “Different hair color and cut, different style of dress, facial hair or no facial hair, as opposed to how he looked as Uncle—your uncle,” he caught himself quickly, and then added, “Perhaps even a different context.”
“Different context?” Sherry asked uncertainly.
“Someone connected to the university or work rather than home and family,” Drina explained. “People often keep the three separated mentally. We automatically compartmentalize our lives into home, school, and work. We don’t usually mix the three.”
Sherry shook her head, confusion and bewilderment rife within her, and then finally asked with frustration, “But why? Why would an immortal go to all that trouble to spend time with me?”
There was silence for a moment as everyone exchanged glances, and then Basil sighed and took her hands in his. “There are only two possible reasons. One, you may be a possible life mate to him or her, they recognized this when you were quite young, and so have been a part of your life since, waiting for you to get older before approaching you.”
Sherry blinked in surprise at the suggestion, and then asked with exasperation, “Well, for heaven’s sake, how old is old enough with you people? I’m thirty-two, not jailbait.”
“Yes, well, it’s possible he or she was waiting for you to succeed at your endeavors so that you would have more confidence and be your own woman first,” he said quietly. “With a mating between a mortal and an immortal who has seen centuries or even millennia, it is possible the mortal will look up to and defer to the immortal and never really come into their own.”
“Well, that’s just silly,” Sherry said with annoyance.
“Is it?” Basil asked with a faint smile. “You may think so now, but you have lived a bit and had some successes. Imagine yourself when you were fresh out of high school. Imagine finding out there were immortals and that you were a possible life mate to one.” He let her think for a minute and then said, “If they were older like myself, and wealthy, there would be no need for you to work. You might not have gone on to higher education and got your business degree. You might not even have pursued your dream to open a store. Or you might have, using money your mate gave you, which wouldn’t have given you as much confidence as having saved and done it all on your own.”
Sherry frowned, reluctantly admitting, if only to herself, that he was right. In fact, she would guess it would have gone further than that. Knowing her mate had lived so long, and seen and experienced so much, she probably would have developed a sort of hero worship for him, deferring to him in everything rather than trusting in her own intelligence and instincts. She supposed it truly could have hampered her developing into her own woman.
“Still,” she said, “I achieved my dreams and started my store three years ago. Surely if there is someone, he would have approached me by now?”
“Yes,” Lucian said, joining the conversation for the first time. “Which is why I suspect the immortal in your life is your father.”
Sherry turned on him with amazement. “My parents split up after my brother died. My father then moved to BC. He hasn’t been in my life since I was eight years old.”
“I wasn’t speaking of your mother’s husband,” Lucian said.
For a moment his words didn’t make sense to her, and then Sherry sat back as if he’d hit her. She began to shake her head.